


Down Fills the Ground, Gravity's Proud

by thechickenandmashmeal



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cuddling, Domestic, Drabble, F/F, Fluff, Lesbians, No Lesbians Die, also honestly if you want they could be trans gal pals this entire fic is open to interpretation, honestly?? are they lesbians? are they gal pals?? it's up to you, i was just in a Cozy Mood, related:, this is super short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 20:09:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12218034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thechickenandmashmeal/pseuds/thechickenandmashmeal
Summary: “Hi,” says Harry softly, removing her left earbud and offering it to Louis. With her free arm, she squeezes Louis closer by the shoulders, both for their warmth and as a sign of affection. A small but sincere smile plays on her lips - Louis wonders how her lips manage to stay so soft and roseate even in the cold.  “Good day?”Louis nods, returning the smile and taking the earbud in one hand.“Your mum’s making pumpkin soup,” she hums happily. “Think I might stay for dinner.”“Yeah, I reckon mum would chain you the table if you tried to leave without eating."(Aka cozy gal pal cuddles on a chilly rooftop: a mood.)





	Down Fills the Ground, Gravity's Proud

**Author's Note:**

> It's not porn for once! And they're not boys!
> 
> Honestly I was just listening to some super soft music and this scenario popped in my head and I couldn't stop until I had down in words. Consider this the result of me getting in my gay feels™️ and wanting to work on my descriptive writing. One of two songs that inspired this little drabble was Turning Pages by Sleeping at Last - the other was where I got my title from.
> 
> As always, I don't own One Direction.
> 
> The title of this work was taken from Roslyn by Bon Iver & St. Vincent.
> 
> Enjoy!

The wind runs its fingers through Louis’s hair as she walks, the street lights a gentle contrast against the lavender-blue sky. The sun has already dipped beneath the horizon, the only remnants of the sunset being the streaks of periwinkle among the clouds, dissolving slowly into the air. Her jacket flaps around her at the breeze, making her shiver slightly. She wishes she had her boots on instead of her sneakers, but she’s already halfway there, so she’ll just have to deal with cold ankles and grab some socks later.

Her fingertips are getting cold, now, and she feels the chill spread to her palm when she wraps her hand around the door handle and lets herself into the building. The stark entryway does little to warm her up. Louis steps up to the stairs and lets her hands slide along the walnut banisters, reaching the second storey in no time. She only hesitates at the door because she isn’t sure if it’ll be unlocked. It usually is, but then, she usually comes over in the middle of the day. If Anne is home, it’ll be fine, she thinks. She hopes. 

She reaches for the doorknob and almost twists, before deciding against it and lifting her knuckles to rap against the wooden door gently instead. 

“Door’s open!” rings Anne’s voice through the door, muffled but warm as it reaches Louis’s ears. A small smile plays on her slightly chapped pink lips as she lets herself into the flat, almost immediately feeling the toasty air rush to envelop her. It’s funny how this place feels so much like home. “Hello, Louis, love.” 

“And if I was an axe murderer?” Louis teases, wincing at the toe-curling chill of the hardwood floor when she wriggles her feet out of her shoes. She sets them neatly against the wall before she walks in further, towards the sound of Anne’s attempt at disapproval - which, more or less, just turns out to be her giggling and shaking her head.

Before Louis can follow muscle-memory to where she’s been headed all along, a gentle hand grabs her arm and pulls her close, a wooden spoon pressed to her lips. “Taste!” When she complies, her tastebuds are greeted with the pleasant, savoury-sweet taste of homemade pumpkin soup. She smacks her lips together exaggeratedly, giving Anne a toothy grin and two happy thumbs-up.

“Perfect,” she assures her, feeling much less shivery as she jogs up the smaller flight of stairs, across from the cozy kitchen. When she reaches the door, she lets herself in again and glances around for a moment. Discarded clothes lay in a small pile next to a pillow with a tell-tale dent in its middle. The drawer creaks mellowly when Louis pulls it open, and she digs for just a second before grabbing a pair of fuzzy grey socks, hopping on one leg for a brief moment when she pulls them on. She even decides to push her feet into the soft slippers by the bed for some added warmth. 

With her feet gradually regaining feeling, she pads over to the window, hooking small fingers around the edge carefully before she hoists upwards. Again, the wind reaches for her hair, as soon as her face meets the cold outside. “Babe?” she breathes softly, though she doesn’t expect a reply. As expected, however, is the sight of earphones leading from Harry’s coat pocket, forking by her chest to wind up towards ears hidden by long curls. The temperature is dropping lazily, but Harry sits with her knees bent on the bit of roof just outside her bedroom window the same way she does in the summer, all the sounds of the world drowned out by whatever she’s listening to.

Louis lowers her body out of the window without a second glance.

She shuffles her body carefully towards the other girl’s, feeling the bumps of the roof scrape against her bum through her jeans. Coming out here still makes her nervous, even though she’s been here more times than she can remember, and it’s not _that_ high up, anyway. That’s what Harry insists, at least. Louis wiggles until her hip bumps against Harry’s, and then exhales into the crisp air before resting her head on Harry’s shoulder. Wisps of long, burnt-umber hair tickle at her nose, making her scrunch her face up a little. 

“Hi,” says Harry softly, removing her left earbud and offering it to Louis. With her free arm, she squeezes Louis closer by the shoulders, both for their warmth and as a sign of affection. A small but sincere smile plays on her lips - Louis wonders how her lips manage to stay so soft and roseate even in the cold. “Good day?”

Louis nods, returning the smile and taking the earbud in one hand. 

“Your mum’s making pumpkin soup,” she hums happily. “Think I might stay for dinner.”

“Yeah, I reckon mum would chain you the table if you tried to leave without eating."

Both girls laugh quietly. Louis pushes the earbud into her ear, nuzzling closer into Harry’s side. Her hand finds its way onto Harry’s lap, and even if the position’s a little awkward, Harry’s long, pale fingers intertwine with hers within seconds. Their hands are both a little cold, but the rest of them are warm. Warm and close and home.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not great with endings. But thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> Comments (!!), kudos, and anything else is incredibly appreciated, and I would be so happy if you'd come chat with me on ~~Twitter [EDIT: I don't go on Twitter much anymore! But here it is anyway.] (@thumbspooning)~~ or Tumblr ([thumbspooning.tumblr.com)](thumbspooning.tumblr.com).
> 
> Lots of love x


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